Mama's Boy
by SubRosa7
Summary: It becomes increasingly clear that Dick's second youngest brother is quite the Mama's boy.


Title: Mama's Boy  
Author: Susana  
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to DC.  
Rating:PG

Genre: Crossover with the tv show White Collar.

Story Synopsis: It becomes increasingly clear that Dick's second youngest brother is quite the Mama's boy.

A/N: This little one shot will make more sense if you've read my work-in-progress, "Inherited Traits, Learned Behaviors, and Unexpected Gifts."

Quote:

"Life began with waking up and loving my mother's face." - George Eliot

Title: Mama's Boy

"Neal," Bruce Wayne said genially one Sunday as he and his family hosted a fundraiser for disadvantaged children on Wayne manor's wide lawn, "Go help Tim with the pony rides. He's allergic to horses."

"Oh, Tim's fine." Neal replied with a charming smile for the socialite whose naivete regarding French jewels he was planning to take advantage of later that day, "And I would never want to deprive my brother of a chance to earn his fair share of female appreciation." The socialite giggled, because a number of pretty young ladies were indeed giving Timothy Drake-Wayne admiring, 'oh-isn't-he-sweet,' looks, for leading a pony around a large, decorative fountain for the smallest party-goers.

Bruce Wayne smiled as if he could appreciate that sally. But Neal could tell, even without turning around to look at his father, that if Bruce didn't have to keep up his Bruce Wayne act, he would be gritting his teeth and growling, "Neal. Now." And that the order would have a threatening undertone of "Or else I'll find some way to make your life so miserable that you'll really wish you had. Like that time you ended up having to clean every car in my garage with a toothbrush. Do you remember that?" But they were in the middle of Gotham high society, so Neal just smiled all the more widely, because Bruce couldn't take that tone with his conman son, not just now. And because Neal was pretty sure that, before the day was out, Damian was going to do something outrageous enough to distract Bruce's attention away from Neal. At least until Neal was already safely back in New York with Peter, who didn't have a garage full of cars, or a bat cave. Neal wasn't that afraid of Peter's worst weapon - mortgage fraud cases. And besides, it was entirely likely that Bruce would be too busy or unable to convince Peter to torture Neal. Or that something more important would come up, and neither Peter nor Bruce would waste time punishing Neal when there were innocents to protect.

But all Selina had to do was laugh, and nod towards the pony rides...and that was enough to have Neal give her a genuine, if rueful, smile, and make his excuses to his mark...er, acquaintance.

Neal reached out to take the pony's reins from Tim, foolishly expecting that Tim would be grateful. After all, Tim was holding onto Snowflake's reins with all the caution and distaste with which one might prudently handle a slimy, poisonous snake.

Instead, Tim raised a skeptical eyebrow, and told Neal with a laugh in his voice, "Neal, you are SUCH a Mama's boy."

As Neal helped to set a pretty little girl with pink ribbons in her hair up onto the warm back of the sweet-tempered white pony, Neal was sadly certain that this joke was going to be too good for Tim not to share. Not just with Dick, but also with Cassie, who had a wicked sense of humor that most people missed because she didn't speak as often as her more loquacious brothers. And even with Damian. Although relations between Tim and the youngest Wayne brother were often strained, "Mama's boy," was just too funny for Tim not to share it. And if Tim didn't, then Dick, the gregarious Switzerland of the Bat family, undoubtedly would. But, even so, Neal couldn't think of a good come-back. Mostly because Tim was right; Neal really was a bit of a Mama's boy. A somewhat unashamed Mama's boy.

Some days, Neal thought that he could almost remember Selina, from his earliest infancy. He had memories of feeling very small and safe in a bright room, with billowing white curtains and warm sea breezes, and a voice singing lullabies in a velvet soprano. He'd never mentioned it to Selina. She'd already told Neal that he had only been a few days old when Analiese and Pierre Laurent adopted him. But, on some level, the wisp of a might-be-memory was too important to Neal to risk hearing that it couldn't have been real. Even more precious, of course, were the memories of the first time he'd met Selina as an adult - well, a teenager. Well, just barely a teenager. In any case, old enough, skilled enough, and confident enough to successfully pretend to be much older. Much as his mother once had herself, long ago.

That day...well, night, but in any case it was during one of Neal's first exploits as "Neal Caffrey," he and Selina had sparred over who got to keep the spoils of a smuggling operation, after they had helped Nightwing to stop a large-scale poisoning.

Dick, well, Nightwing, then, had just shaken his head and pushed an errant lock of black hair away from his chiseled face. (The younger Neal had, in fact, been quite jealous of Nightwing's more mature attractiveness and lady appeal. The cons that Neal could have gotten away with in those days if he'd looked like Dick...)

"You know, Catwoman," Nightwing had begun, with a rueful and only slightly reprimanding smile for Selina, before taking in Neal too, and adding, "and, uh, whoever you are..."

"Tabernacle." Neal had informed the vigilante with a charming smile, "Steve Tabernacle."

"Riiight..." Nightwing drawled, and Neal realized yet again that this crimefighter, while somewhat tedious about what belonged to whom, was in no way a cretin.

"Well, whatever your name is," Nightwing resumed, his voice the same reasonable 'let's-all-just-get-along-and-play-nice-because-you-know-it-will-go-easier-for-you-if-we-do' tone that Nightwing had used earlier that evening, while talking to the psychopath megalomaniac's henchmen, "You know that I just can't let you walk away with those dusty old...whatever-they-are's."

Neal was still young enough to sigh in frustration at someone so ignorant as not to recognize genuine Egyptian faience, but Selina only smiled sweetly.

"Oh, _Nightwing_, darling," she purred, and it was clear from the way she said the vigilante's name that she knew something about him that he wouldn't want "Steve Tabernacle," to know, "Since I knew that you would be here," Selina continued in a sweet, slightly admonishing tone, "and I know your proclivity for returning 'lost' items to their rightful owners...I thoughtfully brought along the paperwork showing that these items of primarily sentimental value properly belong to my client, a Mr. Rasheed, so that we wouldn't have to waste time with tedious arguments about it."

Selina presented a roll of papers with a flourish from her belt, and Nightwing took them dubiously, "First off, _Catwoman,_" Nightwing replied, his voice making it clear that he knew something about her identity, as well, even if he was too much a gentleman to ever tell, "I wouldn't ever trust an official document received from you without first running it by a forgery expert. A REALLY GOOD forgery expert," the young crimefighter amended with a teasing, boyish grin, before growing serious, "And how did you know that I would be here, anyway? I don't remember filling out a change-of-address form."

With another rich, throaty laugh, the shapely brunette in the sexy leather cat suit (Neal's MOTHER, for mercy's sake, even if she didn't know that...) replied with wry amusement, "I read an article in the Times about the seizure of a large shipment of cocaine in Bludhaven by its new vigilante Nightwing..."

Nightwing winced. "Oh." Neal would later learn that Bruce- well, Batman- had torn a long, bloody strip off of Dick's pride for that slip, mostly because Bruce had been afraid that Batman's enemies would recognize Nightwing as the former Robin, and target the newly-independent vigilante in order to get back at Batman. But at the time, Neal had just watched in fascination as the famous conwoman (who was probably Neal's mother) and the barely-known crime-fighter exchanged friendly banter. Well, Neal had listened and helped himself to a few of the smaller, dustiest pieces of faience.

Selina gave no sign of noticing Neal's sleight-of-hand. Instead, she kept right on playfully scolding Nightwing, as if he were her naughty younger brother.

"Yes, 'oh,'" Selina replied with a grin, as Nighting began to blush, "As soon as I read that awful pun about cocaine dealers and soda fountains, I knew that 'Nightwing' had to be you." Selina's face softened as she added, "I'm sure that you-know-who was excessively incensed over that little give-away. He never did have much of a sense of humor."

"I wouldn't know. We aren't really on speaking terms, these days." Nightwing said, all trace of amusement leaving his face as his jaw clenched. Neal could read the pain behind the anger, and his hand stopped where it had been reaching for another of the small, valuable, ancient blue-green artifacts. Even then, Neal hadn't particularly liked taking advantage of someone's pain to steal...well, he didn't like taking advantage of a good person's pain to steal. Sometimes he purposely arranged matters so that less pleasant individuals were more than a small bit inconvenienced, even incoherently furious, and then took advantage of their distraction to steal them blind. But Neal didn't actually have anything against Nightwing, except for the vigilante's preoccupation with law and order. In fact, under other circumstances, Neal thought that Nightwing would have made for a pretty good conman, himself. Certainly one whom Neal wouldn't have minded having along for a heist.

Selina gave Neal an approving glance from under her thick, dark eyelashes, and Neal blushed himself as he realized that she had seen him filling his pockets. But Selina's attention was mostly on Nightwing, and her expression and tone were genuinely sympathetic as she told the crimefighter, "I'm sorry to hear that. I do have confidence that you-know-who will eventually get over this sulk and want to play cops-and-robbers with you again. Although I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to have anything to do with him, by the time he does. I've always been oddly fond of him for some reason, but he can be quite the misanthrope."

At that Nightwing laughed, and ran a hand through his hair. "Tomorrow or in a decade, if he needs me, I'm there. But for now," Nightwing's demeanor turned stern and his voice firm as he began his crimefighter lecture again, "Bludhaven is my city,"

Selina interrupted with a roll of her pretty eyes, and a mocking, falsetto, "Ooh, la, and don't you sound just like him now...I prefer the puns, personally. After all, you've gotten much better at them since the 'holy kitty litter' days."

"Hey," Nightwing protested, losing track of his lecture yet again, which incidentally gave Neal the chance to slide a few more faience figures into his bag.

"First of all," Nightwing continued, "I'd been hit in the head more than a few times, that day. I'd also been exposed to whatever substances were floating around the Riddler's 1970's themed lair, and B..er, You-know-who had been torturing me...er, working on solving the crime, by replaying the Riddler's campy, 70's themed clues for almost a week. Otherwise, I would never have said that!"

Although it really was a fascinating story which Neal would have loved to have heard more of, he'd removed all of the valuable pieces of faience by then. So Neal saw no reason not to take a graceful leap off of the top of the warehouse toward the rushing river, as Nightwing continued to protest that he'd been non-compos-mentis when he'd uttered that particularly embarrassing banality.

"Hell!" Nightwing swore, reaching out to catch Neal's arm and pull him back, only just a hair too slow.

"Aww, come on, kid! Really?" Neal heard Nightwing complain as Neal only just barely caught the rail of a passing ship. Neal turned around with a wave and a grin. As the swift vessel carried him away from grimy Bludhaven under a bright moon and shining stars, Neal heard Selina's throaty laugh float after him, over the waves. Much later, Neal would learn that Dick had been much more scared that the younger Neal might have gotten hurt doing that stunt, than he was pissed about Neal's having stolen the dusty, old, priceless artifacts out from under Dick's nose.

But even at that time, Neal realized that Selina had let him get away with the faience on purpose. And, even if he hadn't known that she was his mother, he would have loved Selina forever, just for that. No one had ever done something so selfless for Neal before, not since Martina.

Martina...who had rescued Neal from a fate worse than death. Martina, who taught Neal to paint by her side at the same time she'd taught him how to survive pretty much anything.

And when Peter had caught Neal the second time, and told him no, and then only later, yes, about the work release, Neal had immediately realized that it was Elizabeth, Peter's wife, who had must have changed Peter's mind. That was before Neal had even met Elizabeth. And then, when they did meet in person, Elizabeth had almost immediately forgiven Neal for the three years that Peter had spent chasing Neal and forgetting her birthdays and anniversaries. Elizabeth had proceeded to take Neal's side in almost every disagreement he'd gotten into with Peter. While, at the same time, like Peter and like no one else since Analiese and Pierre Laurent, Elizabeth had expected Neal to be a good person, and to own up to his mistakes. And, even more terrifying, she'd expected Neal to come clean to Peter. And Neal had, just because Elizabeth wanted him to. Even though there was always the chance that Peter might have sent Neal back to jail. Although Peter never did.

Peter, who gave Neal a second chance when no one else would. Peter, who gave Neal THAT LOOK before Neal could do or say something fun that would get him in trouble. Peter, who couldn't quite hide a grin when Neal leapt out of the judge's chambers and rolled off of that bakery canopy. Peter, who then proceeded to do the world's worst job of running a manhunt for Neal, until they could save the day- and Neal's reputation - together. Peter, whose strong hands checked over Neal's body for hurts, after Neal had been in the hands of Lindsay's kidnappers, and so many times since then when Neal had been in jeopardy.

But still, it had been Elizabeth who convinced Peter to take a chance on Neal. Elizabeth, who distracted FBI agents so that fugitive Neal could sneak into the Burkes' townhouse, and Elizabeth who brought out her cutest pout so that Peter would listen to Neal before going ballistic. Elizabeth, who introduced Neal to the Burkes' precious yellow retriever Satchmo on Neal's second day out of jail. Elizabeth, who had suggested - or rather, insisted - that Neal stay in the Burkes' guest room after the first time that Neal got hurt on an FBI investigation. It was Elizabeth who baked petit-fours for Neal when he'd had a bad week, even though Elizabeth didn't even like petit-fours. To Neal, Peter became a mix of best friend, older brother, and surrogate father. But even so, Neal never forgot that it was Elizabeth whom Neal had loved first.

And it was Selina, who had handled the revelation that Neal was her son in such a way that Neal still wanted to be around her. Even if it meant that Neal had to be around Bruce, too. In time, Neal had become very fond of Bruce despite himself, even though Neal was still a little uncomfortable with the idea of having Batman as a father. After all, what rational criminal - well, mostly reformed criminal - wouldn't be? But at first, if it hadn't been for Selina - well, and his anklet and Peter and Elizabeth - Neal would have pulled a disappearing act as soon as he realized that he was on Bruce's radar. And Selina had been wise enough to know that, and to give Neal time before insisting that they tell Bruce about him having been Neal's sperm donor (Neal's words; Selina's description of the whole awkward situation had been much classier). It was Selina, who had been wise enough to know that Neal would have wanted to disappear if she hadn't given her newly-found son time to adjust to the idea. Selina who realized that leaving would have been the worst mistake of Neal's life, not just because of Peter and Elizabeth and Selina, but for so many other reasons - brothers and a sister and a father and a family- that Neal hadn't even been able to comprehend, not before Selina had ever-so-skillfully intertwined his life with theirs. Selina, who had known that Bruce would do better with Neal, if Bruce had more time to see that Neal was more than just a debonair grin and a criminal record. More time to get to know Neal as Neal, before Bruce learned that Neal was his own son, as well as Selina's.

So, Neal tried not to mind when his siblings teased him for being a Mama's boy. Not even on the job, when Batman ordered Neal to do something, and Neal pretended not to hear him, only to immediately do whatever-it-was when Catwoman asked. Neal tried not to mind even after Black Bat hummed a few bars of "Mama's lullaby" after one such incident, and Nightwing, Red Robin, and even dour Robin all started laughing so hard that the justice league channels were almost impossible to hear anything over. Neal tried not to mind, even though he thought that he heard the Flash and even Superman chuckling, too. Neal did laugh when Batman snapped at them, because it WAS funny when someone else had to clean the batcave with a toothbrush. And it was funny when Batman designed training scenarios which were particularly awful to get back at all of them. Even if Neal had to run them, too. Neal wouldn't have ever thought so, before Peter and Bruce, but there was something reassuring and kind've nice, about commiserating with his siblings, or with Diana and Jones, after they all gotten into trouble with the boss together. Even if his brothers and sister kept up the "Mama's boy" joke for much too long, and shared it with Peter, who was too much a gentleman to do anything other than laugh with his eyes at Neal, and with Jones, who unfortunately was not that much of a gentleman.

End Note:

Who doesn't love feedback? Either way, thanks for reading!If you liked this, you might like the longer work-in-progress, "Inherited Traits, Learned Behaviors, and Unexpected Gifts." I think that story is actually a bit better - more dialogue and less introspection. But this one took a lot less time to write!

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